Bringing Back the Games
by Emberflame of ForestClan
Summary: Twenty-three years after the rebellion a new president took charge, and he's bringing back the Hunger Games. And Katniss and Peeta's daughter is thrown into the arena. Told from Katniss and Peeta's daughter's perspective.
1. Prologue: Defying the Capitol

**A/N: Okay, this idea just popped into my head, and I think it's pretty decent. I want some reviews before I post the next chapter, so I know if people actually like it. **

Summary: Twenty-three years after the rebellion a new president took charge, and he's bringing back the Hunger Games. And Katniss and Peeta's daughter is thrown into the arena. Told from Katniss and Peeta's daughter's perspective.

Prologue: Defying the Capitol

My parents had told be about the Hunger Games. I'd never been worried, never thought I'd had a reason to. They were gone forever, right? Wrong. President Paylor had finally died from a severe illness. So an election was held. And Melanon Buchanan had taken the office. And he was determined to bring the Hunger Games back.

People rebelled of course, but he sent new Peacekeepers out to the districts to keep us in check. My parents were scared for me and my brother Gwyn. When it was announced that the Games were coming back, he woke me up almost every night, saying "I had a bad dream. Can I sleep in here with you?" He didn't want to disturb our parents, when they had to deal with their own nightmares.

I always said yes. I hated seeing him scared, it was so unlike him. He was usually very happy and upbeat, always looking on the bright side. But now…he just seemed miserable all the time.

"I'm scared, Prim," He'd say.

"I know, I am too," Was always my answer.

Our parents were more worried, having been in the Games themselves, and also being an important part of the rebellion. Sometimes I could hear them talking in their bedroom, saying things like "I was afraid this would happen," or even "I knew it wouldn't last, but I'd expected it to last longer than this!" Once I even heard my mother saying that this was the reason she'd originally hadn't wanted to have children, and thought it would be better for us if we hadn't been born.

I'll admit, sometimes I wished that too. But I just knew in my heart that I had an important role to play. And I wasn't going to give up, if I was keeping kids from the Hunger Games. And to me it didn't matter what the cost was—even if it was my life. Although, I swear my own pride is going to be the death of me.

So I knew what I had to do. I was going to try to do the impossible. Though for some older, more experienced people, it may not seem quite as impossible, but still challenging. I mean, how could a small thirteen year old girl like me, possibly defy the Capitol, even if she is the daughter of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark?


	2. Chapter 1: Two Tributes

**A/N: Please don't hate me for this chapter… **

Chapter 1: Two Tributes

Early one morning when we were all sitting at the table, my mother announced, "I'm starting a rebellion."

We all nearly choked on our food. "W-What?" My father asked, his voice deathly calm, the way he gets when he's furious.

She repeated it.

"Now, why in the hell would you do that? You want to get killed?"

"I want to be fair."

"Fair, is not worth the price of dying! At least not you! You almost died—numerous times during the rebellion!"

She calmly continued eating as if talking of rebellion was nothing out of the ordinary. "And it obviously didn't work did it?"

No. No it didn't. And dad knew that well enough, so he didn't have an answer. It's obvious where I get my bravery—and stupidity—from. And besides, if anyone even _heard_ us talking about rebellion, we'd all be dead. So it was a subject we were better off dropping. And saying in front of Gwyn before a school day? Well, he was always such a big-mouth I couldn't understand how he could ever keep it a secret.

So we headed off to school. He was practically bouncing with excitement at seeing his friends again. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less. I didn't have friends. I was like, the most popular girl in school (because of my parents), and yet I had no friends. I just wasn't friendly. You could see where I got that from, too.

Class flew by in a blur. It seemed blissfully short. And I was reminded—in every single class—that the Reaping is in a week. And I must admit, I was scared, actually terrified would be a more appropriate word.

Over the next couple of days, nothing happened, there was no more talk of rebellion, but my mother often snuck around acting very secretive. But I was too busy with my school work to find out what she was doing.

But three days later, my mother did what she said. She started a rebellion. Or at least an uprising. She had gathered others who felt the same way, who were terrified for their children who they'd hoped, would never have to go to through the Reaping.

Before we knew it Peacekeepers were shooting people at random, firing bullets into the massive crowd. One hit my mother right in the stomach. The scream stuck in my throat. I was over to her before she even hit the ground. I could vaguely hear Gwyn crying in the distance, calling for her.

My father's hand felt strange on my shoulder as he steered me away. He leaned down and picked up my mother. She was still breathing, but she was losing blood—fast. If she didn't get to the hospital in time—I didn't even want to think about it.

Gwyn was still calling out for her. I turned and saw him being held back by someone. "Come on, Gwyn. We're going home." I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him away.

"Where's mommy?" he sounded so sad.

Okay, so how could I tell him the truth without scaring him to death? "Well, um, she got hurt, and Daddy is taking her to the hospital." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie.

"Can we go?"

"No," I snapped. He looked ready to cry. "Look, I don't think we would even be allowed to, so we're going home."

Sometimes he was so mature; it was easy to forget he was only eight.

"What was going on?" He asked/

When we were home I pulled him into his room, and sat him down on his bed. "Look, Gwyn. I don't know if you know, but things are not like they were. You need to be careful. That was an uprising. But you can't ever, EVER talk about it, okay? You'll be in big trouble."

He nodded. I seriously hoped he'd understood what I was saying, and didn't just hear _blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. _The phone rang. I practically fell down the stairs trying to get to the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?" I answered the phone.

"Prim," Dad sounded sad. Oh no…

"Dad! What happened?"

He was silent for minute. "I…your mother…she—she."

Oh no. No, no, no. This could NOT be happening. No. No! NO! The phone dropped out of my hand, and hit the floor. My whole life was crumbling under my feet. I almost screamed. I actually might have, I'm not sure.

Gwyn ran down the stairs. He saw the phone on the ground and picked it up. He listened for a minute, before he hung up. He looked calm, maybe Dad hadn't told him. I was crying though. Actually sobbing would be a more accurate word.

Gwyn was confused, but he sat next to me on the floor. Even though he didn't know why I was crying, he started crying. When he found out…I knew he'd be depressed. He loved Mom. He was a mama's boy, all the way.

When dad came home, he just sat down next to us, and put his arms around our shoulders. My mother, so brave, so loving…she'd been the best mother I could've imagined, but now…I'd been afraid after she had told me she had made the Capitol angry. Then she assured me that president was gone, and I felt safe, happy that they probably wouldn't go after her.

And now it was her own idea that killed her. How would we ever get over it? Maybe we wouldn't. I wiped the tears from my eyes, and looked at my dad. He was leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed, and tears streaming down his cheeks.

They'd gone through so much, the Games, the Capitol, the Rebellion, him getting hijacked, getting married, having me and Gwyn. And it was over. Nothing was going right. Not at all.

We just sat there for a long time, just sitting. Finally dad got up, and held out his hands. He pulled us up and said, "We're going to be okay, got it? We're all going to miss her, but we're going to get through it."

"We're gonna forget mommy?" Gwyn looked like he was about to cry again.

"No," dad said. "We're not, we never will."

The days went by in a blur of tears, and "It'll be okay," "I'm so sorry about your mom." I didn't want to be reminded! I was having enough trouble without all the people being sorry for me!

The Reaping came all too fast. It was like one minute after I lose my mother I have to go see if I'm going to be thrown into the arena, too. Who knows, maybe if I do, I'll die, and I'll see my mother again.

I was near the back of small area. My heart was beating too fast, I though everyone could hear. The Capitol escort, Effie Trinket, was even more freakish than my parents had described.

"Well," she said. "Looks it should be another exciting Hunger Games!" there was no back to her words. I could tell she was disappointed that the Games were started again.

"Ladies first" her smile was back as she crossed the stage to the glass ball that held the girls' names.

It took her a moment to grab one. She smoothed it out, and her smile faded for a moment, then came back as she read the name.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

What? No. No. NO! My name was in their twice! I-I couldn't! I was almost as safe as you can get. Although, my aunt, who I was named for, had only been twelve and she was reaped. That's when my mother and father went into the Games…

As I walked up, I glanced at dad. He looked mortified. I slowly walked up the steps to where Effie Trinket stood, smiling at me.

"Well, well, a child of not, but TWO victors! How exciting!"

Exciting? Ha.

"How about a round of applause for our tribute?"

Nobody clapped. I looked at my dad. He nodded a tiny bit, then pressed the middle three fingers of his left hand to his lips, then held his hand out toward me. After a minute, everyone had followed his lead.

Effie Trinket was already waddling back to the podium with the boy's slip in her hand. "Artie Hawthorne."

Oh no, Artie Hawthorne. Great. His father had been in love my mother. This should be interesting. We hadn't talked much except when his family came over to out house, or vice versa, since he was a year ahead of me.

We shook hands and we were escorted to the Justice Building.

After a minute in the cleanest room I'd ever seen, dad and Gwyn walked in. I wondered why dad would possibly come, when he's going to be my mentor. Maybe Gwyn couldn't come in by himself.

Gwyn immediately jumped into my arms. He started crying and buried his face in my shirt. And this time it was me that was saying everything would be okay. Too soon their time was up, and Dad had to actually pull Gwyn off me, so they could leave. Dad had to be at the train station before I got there, and he had to take Gwyn to 'Uncle' Haymitch.

I was marched back out by the Peacekeepers and was directed into a car. I'd been in a couple of cars in my life, but this one was definitely the fanciest, with so many extra buttons that I had no idea what they did.

Dad was waiting at the platform with Effie. Artie was just pulling up in another car, too. People were waving and photographers were taking pictures. We went in and the doors closed behind us.

**A/N: Guys, please please please review. I'm posting this even though I didn't get any reviews, but seriously. Next chapter will not go up until I have at least a couple reviews. I want to know if people actually like it or not.**


	3. Chapter 2: Tribute Parade

**A/N: So sorry it took so long. So much stuff going on. The beginning of this was just sitting in the back of my fanfic folder, all lonely. Haha. **

Chapter 2:

Of course it had to be Artie Hawthorne. The most stuck-up kid in all of District 12. I hated him so much. I mean, he'd even tried hitting on me! (Along with all of the other girls in school.) Ugh. If nobody else killed him, I would.

I practically _ran _into my compartment to get away. I plopped down on the bed and started crying. I should've known this would happen! My parents had told me victors' children had been Reaped before, but none had be children of two victors. Great. Just my luck I'd be the first.

There was a knock on the door, and my dad walked in.

"I though you might like this." He held something out. "It was your mother's"

Then I knew. The one thing that would make me almost exactly like my mom. I took the Mockingjay pin from him and pinned it on my shirt. "Thanks," I said.

"You look so much like her…" Except for my eyes, bright blue just like his. "You're gonna be okay, you know that? You're strong. And no matter what, I'm not losing you too."

I was almost crying again. I was having everything taken from me. The feeling of safety that I'd always had, my mother, and now maybe even my life. But I had to believe him. I was strong. I'd make it.

He hugged me tightly. "Whenever you're hungry you can come out and get food."

I nodded, and he walked out. That was the first time I'd had a whole conversation with him since…since mom died. It felt nice. I'd felt so alone,

I leaned back on the bed, and sighed. This train was nice enough, if only we could just skip over the Capitol, and keep going to who knows where. It'd be simpler than where we were actually going.

I think I might have fallen asleep, because next thing I know, someone is knocking on my door again.

"What?" I snapped. Unless it was my dad, I just wanted them to go away.

Of course. Stupid Artie walked in.

"Hey, Prim," he said. He sounded as though we were best friends. Which we weren't. Not even close.

"Get out, Hawthorne. Or just maybe you won't even make it to the Capitol."

"Oo, nice one. I think I'll take my chances."

"I'm warning you Hawthorne."

Still he walked closer. "What? What will you do? I'm older, bigger, stronger, and faster than you."

That's it. I jumped up from the bed and punched him right in the mouth. He stumbled back, his hand covering his face. I could see a little blood under his hand. Serves the jerk right.

He was calling me horrible names as he backed out. It didn't faze me. I'd been called worse. I grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at the wall. It helped get rid of at least a little anger.

I decided to go get some food, even though my dad and Artie were probably there, just waiting to tell me off.

I was right.

"How dare you punch him!" Dad was practically yelling.

"He was getting annoying, and I _told _him to leave, but he wouldn't listen."

"That's still no reason to punch him." His voice was deadly calm. And I must say, it scared me a little bit.

"I _told _him to go, and he didn't, though!"

Of course, poor Artie could do no wrong, and I got in trouble. Stupid stuck-up, snobby jerk.

"So, when we get there, what's going to happen?" I asked, desperate to change the subject.

"You're going to see your prep teams. It's not going to be nice, but you'll go through much, much worse in the arena."

Huh. So we get to go through hours of torture before we even get to the place we're going to die. Nice, Capitol. Nice.

Prepping was worse than I'd expected. It was horrible to the billionth power. After the plucking and waxing and the awful baths, I was red and sore. And I hated it.

And the costume, oh the costume was hideous! The baggy coal miner uniforms were back. Great way to make sure we lost because we didn't have sponsors when we really needed it. My stylist looked crazy. Drawn on eyebrows, silver lips, orange hair. It looked like a rainbow threw up on him. How the Capitol people think any of that is attractive, I'll never know...

I was one of the first tributes to get down to the chariots. I hung out with the horses while I was waiting. I'd always had a better bond with animals, than people.

"Hey," I heard Artie say in my ear.

"Get. Back." I said, shoving him away with my shoulder.

"Hm. Tempermental. I can work with that."

I spun around. "You think you're all that don't you? Well, guess what? You're not. You're the most selfish, stuck-up, snobby, jerk I've ever met!" The words just exploded out of me. I wasn't going to pretend to like him. We had to kill each other in a matter days, better to just pretend the other didn't even exist.

"Ah. So what you're saying is you like me?" I swear. His head was so thick.

For some stupid reason, I blushed. "I do not! You're obviously stupid, if you got _that_ out of what I said!"

We climbed onto the chariot, and I stood as far away from his as possible. When our chariot finally rolled out, I was ready to punch him again. Thankfully, he shut up. The crowd had been focused on the chariots before us, but a few people called out my name. Recognized me, because of my parents. I was almost an exact copy of my mother after all. Except her scars. Those can never be copied.

"You're famous," Artie noted.

I shrugged. "My parents, not me." Nobody _really _knows me. Primrose Rue Everdeen. Named after two different people, who both died when they when they were young. I'm not friendly, I'd protect Gwyn no matter what the cost, I'm too stubborn for my own good... No, nobody really knows me. Just my name. Made famous because of my parents.

Someone actually screamed, "Katniss?" And it felt like I was smacked in the face. And I almost fell off the chariot. I managed to avoid it by grabbing Artie's arm.

He somehow managed to grab my hand. I tried to shake him off, but I couldn't. He was gripping my hand so tightly, my fingers were going numb.

President Buchanon said the long and very boring speech, my parents told me President Snow used to make. Then the chariots were wheeled back into the Training Center.

"Let go!" I hissed, shaking my hand.

He smiled, and let go. Then, because he's a jerk, he kissed me on the cheek. I swear. If he kept doing that junk, he wouldn't even make it to the arena.


End file.
